The end of the beginning...

There is a rat that visits Strong Tower every night. I’m almost always the last one to bed and this little rat and I have developed a kind of relationship. He wiggles in through some open window at the exact time as I’m walking to the bathroom, or going to get water. I freak out a little, he scurries away, I scurry away, and the whole thing starts over again the next night. No one believed that I had seen him until we came back from camp and he had left behind some evidence. I’ve set traps and I just can’t seem to catch the thing. When I realized that tonight will be the last dog and pony show with my little rat friend, I got a little bit sad. Not so much because I’ll miss the rat, but because I’ve come to love the quirks of this place. I like hearing the different animals at night (people included). I love the awkward, high pitched sucking sound that bats make almost as much as I liked learning today that that is not actually the sound that bats make but the sound that geckos make (I wish I had known that last night when I heard it in my bedroom and was sure that a bat was hanging under the bed). I like hearing the water and the rain. I like hearing Miss Sheryl sing Whitney Houston off key at the top of her lungs while everyone is trying to sleep. In the past few weeks I’ve had the chance to sing, to meet amazing people, to work out my faith, to make a sweet friend in Elly, to drive like a maniac through the decaying streets of Belize City, and to laugh and laugh and laugh…and laugh. All in all, three weeks wasn’t nearly enough time here. I feel like I’ve been here my whole life, and at the same time like I just arrived.

Yesterday I got to spend the whole day with a new friend. We didn’t do much, just went to a VBS, made fun of some of the videos and song that the kids were dancing to, and made lunch. I knew when we planned to get together on Friday that she was the reason that I came to Belize. I gained so much from everything that I did—driving people, being up at Strong Tower, going into the jungle, eating rice and beans—but something about the friendship we forged will really stay with me. It’s amazing how God can bring two people together from two very different places to encourage each other. I felt pretty Belizean too while we walked around downtown. Usually if I just keep my mouth shut, people assume that I’m one of them and I melt in a little bit better. I’ll miss that, and black people in general J

Pray for and support the ministry here. There are so many people who need the Lord and hope. Strong Tower has so much potential to help girls who have been abused and need to learn discipline and to be loved, but the funding and the staff just aren’t there. I know that the Lord has a plan for this city and I am so grateful that in some incredibly small way, I get to be a part of that plan. I love that I have made connections with some of the girls here and that I get the chance to keep in touch with them, to pray for them, and hopefully to visit them again soon. I know that the Lord works all things out for good for those who love Him and I look forward to seeing the fruit that comes from the church here. I feel like there is too much to say about everything that has happened to really get it all down. I’ll try to throw some pictures up on Facebook in the next few days before I head to California.

…and reluctantly, on to the next adventure. First Harry Potter, a little Bunko, and a little family time, then off to California for a few weeks. I’ll check in again soon.

Jungle Boogie

We are back from the jungle, and it was quite the experience for all of us! Late last night I almost burst into tears as I stood barefoot and abandoned in a field in the middle of a loud and active jungle, covered in mud, with one of my toenails hanging on for dear life, no flashlight, and a long walk ahead of me. So there was a fair bit of suffering, but I also have to say that I have laughed harder and more genuinely in the past five days than I have…maybe ever in my life. The Lord taught me a lot about perseverance, survival, and what it means to be a missionary. There is truly nowhere that you can go and be away from His presence and there is not a soul on earth that He is not desperate to reach.

The military-themed high school camp that Elly, Whitney, and I were counselors for started immediately upon arrival with acting in a video where we saluted, stood at attention, and screamed with other “warriors” the rules of camp, and things never once let up. Every single second of every single day was a completely unpredictable adventure. Between stepping on mounds of fire ants; losing my left big toe nail; having a possum run across my feet while in the bathroom; being told to sing a song about bananas without warning in front of 60 high school kids by myself; being forced to dance wildly to “Shout” repeatedly until everyone in the room was on their feet for the whole song; always having blood trickling down my leg from some unidentified insect bite; trying to bathe in a squirt-gun stream of water; fending off wildebeest sized insects; being attacked by a rabid Chihuahua that tried to tear off my yellow ankle bracelet; wearing a yellow ankle bracelet; trying to understand Creole, peeling potatoes until my back ached; lying down on a fresh bed only to have blood—human or otherwise—seep through from the mattress onto my sheets; having rain blow through the windows onto my face while I tried to sleep; watching tarantulas scuttle across the floor during breakfast; a lot of interesting times were had. In some ways I think the Lord stretched me just to show me how truly selfish and self-seeking I am. I confess that the week should have been much more about the kids and I made it very often about me because of my discomfort. The kids all loved the experience and were really sad that we had to leave early to catch the bus to Belize City. John and Lisa have a pretty incredible ministry going there, and I was impressed to see how many young men at the end of the week had really good, hard questions to ask John about God. They are teaching kids from tough backgrounds to work hard, to work as a team, and to endure an incredible amount of hardship to discipline themselves and follow the Lord.

So we’re back to town and right back into the swing of things. Tonight is youth group and tomorrow we head to Caye Caulker for a bit of R&R with the Strong Tower girls, which I hope will be a sweet bonding time.

See you all soon!

Graddyation Party

I'm pretty tired after a long day yesterday of exploring Mayan ruins and sitting in the hot, hot sun, so please excuse the jubled mess of this post. I’m almost halfway through my trip here and I’m growing accustomed to the heat, to having a gecko or two in the bathroom with me most of the time, and to driving like a maniac in a third-world vehicle with the windows shot out and no seats. I am starting to wish that I were staying for much, much longer because I just love the people here so much. In three weeks, you really just scratch the surface of the relationships that can be developed and the doors that can be opened for ministry.

Last week I went to, as Joel calls it, a graddyation party out in Ghost Town, a part of town that people don’t seem to want to go to (even a few people who live around the corner from Ghost Town had never been there before). There had been a shooting there the night before, so most of the men were laying low while the kids and the women celebrated. It’s weird that things are like that all the time here. I'm tucked away safely outside the city and don't see any of the violence because it is all gang-related (and we haven’t been holing up with the gangs much of late), but I do see the people who are touched by it every day. Tonight I picked up some kids for youth group who were late because they were at their cousin’s funeral. Two of the littler boys, probably like 7- or 8-years-old, told me  in a dull, matter-of-fact way, that their cousin had had “his head shot off." This right after I was stopped by a different person’s funeral procession when driving downtown to buy a volleyball. It’s just so common. Someone has been shot and killed in a gang-member-targeted incident somewhere on the south side of the city every night since I’ve been here. I was talking to a guy outside the church a few nights ago who said, “We’re living in hell, and hell is getting bigger and stronger.” It’s a tough place for kids to grow up, so it is refreshing to go to youth group on a Friday night and see so many kids who would be out wandering the streets. But keep these people in prayer. There is nothing that God doesn’t see and nothing too difficult for Him to accomplish. 

I’ve had the chance to help with worship quite a bit since I’ve been here and I love that. It’s fun to be able to do what you love to fill a need. Although my repertoire of songs was challenged when I played guitar on Wednesday night. I know about 9 songs and naturally I had to play 10, but it was such a blessing to get to play and sing. Some of the kids who were just starting to lead worship when I left last time have really turned in to fantastic musicians, so it’s great to jump in with them. Almost the whole worship team here has left for the summer, so pray that others will be lifted up to fill the void.

Elly, Whitney and I leave for high school camp in the jungle tomorrow. Should be fun to hang out with the kids, see my first scorpions and jaguars in their native habitat, and see more of this beautiful country. The bus ride will be a long adventure and I doubt I’ll have internet access when I get there, but I’ll update you when we get back on Friday night. Hope you all have a blessed week!